“Wings?” Her face lit up, and she stepped forward. “You are saying go up in plane? You will take me home?”
“Yeah, I’ll help you go home, if you’re sure that’s what you want.” The evidence seemed to indicate she’d be a whole lot better off down here, where Zlo couldn’t electrocute her. “But maybe not right away. I mean, I could use your help. You heard Livingstone this afternoon. If we could find Schturming and make sure it doesn’t damage the town again”—or even just explain what it was—“then that could be a big deal, for both of us.”
That was going to be the pill for her to swallow. He kept his posture casual. In her excitement over going home, maybe she’d skip right on by that part.
She knit her brows. “You will not take me home now?”
Or maybe not.
She leaned back. “What is this you are doing? You are being”—she waved her hand, searching for the word—“not real with me.”
His grin slipped. “What?”
“You smile same at me as when you tried to keep Livingstone from giving you to custody man.” She crossed her arms. “Why do you change your mind about taking me to home all of this sudden?”
“It’s not exactly about changing my mind. I didn’t know you before. Now I know you.”
“You are wanting my help now for something. That is why you do this.”
“Well—”
“You think because I do not say your language well that I am stupid.” Red spots appeared on her cheeks and neck. “I am not. I see your face, I hear your words. I am not needing days to have knowledge of who you are. I have seen you this few days already, and I have knowledge of you.”
Like tarnation she did. “And who am I?”
“You are man who gets into trouble. Maybe you do not mean to be causing harm, but you cause it anyway.”
“Look, you do not know me. It’s only been two days. You don’t know anything about me.”
“And you have no knowledge about me either.” She tossed her hair. “But here is something both of us are knowing. I can do something for you that you want, and maybe I am only person who can do it for you. But what I want is something any pilot can do.” She raised her chin. “And they will have happiness to do it for me, after what Livingstone is saying to them about finding Schturming.”
He stared at her. She might have seen right through him from the beginning, but it seemed like he had barely scratched her surface.
She was right, more or less, about almost all of it. He was always getting himself into trouble—he could hardly deny that right now—and save for the fact that he sort of had dibs on her, he’d given her no absolute reason to help him.
“I don’t think you’re stupid. I never did.” He looked her in the eye. “I think Matthew was right—you’re heaped with brains.”
She widened her eyes. Then she looked away, anywhere but at him, before finally settling her gaze on the ground between them. Carefully, she pushed her hair behind her ear again and peeked up at him.
Did that mean maybe she didn’t think he was so bad after all?
He took a step. “Listen, I deserved some of what you said. I admit I don’t have a right to your help. But I sure could use it. And you’ve only met the one pilot—and that’s me—and he’s downright likable once you get to know him. So why not at least think about this job? Until we find Schturming, you’ve got nothing to do in the meantime.”
She slanted a glance at him, another one of those studying looks. But the furrow in her forehead was gone, and the corner of her mouth almost hinted at a smile.
Doggoned if she wasn’t human after all. Except for the lightning and the dead bodies and the bruised shins, he might even be more than a little sorry when the time came to hold up his end of the deal and send her on her way.
He smiled back.
From the direction of the house, footsteps crunched through the grass.
A slender redhead—Molly—ducked a tree branch and stopped at the sight of them. “Oh. I was coming to say it was suppertime.” She looked back and forth between them. “I’m sure you could stay for dinner, Mr. Hitchcock.” She did that slow blink again. She’d probably modeled it after moving-picture stars like Clara Bow and Mary Pickford, but it was so obvious, it would have been worth laughing at—if it wouldn’t have hurt the kid’s feelings.
“You could regale us with your stories of the sky,” she said.
“You can call me Hitch. Nobody I like calls me Mr. Hitchcock. And thanks, but I seriously doubt your mama would appreciate—”
“Molly, did you find them?” Nan ducked around the tree behind her daughter. She caught sight of Hitch and froze.
“I’m just leaving,” he said. “Thought my dog might be out this way. He was with your son last I saw. Walter, I think his name is?”
Nan wrung her hands in the pink floral print of her pinafore apron. She came forward to stand beside Jael. “If your dog’s a brown collie type, he’s around someplace. Call him and I expect he’ll come. You’d best chain him after this.” She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, closed it, then opened it again. “I allowed as Jael could stay with us now.”
“If it makes any difference, you should know I’m giving her a job. If she wants it.”
“That’s her choice, I’m sure.” Nan drew a breath. Her voice was grim, but her eyes weren’t—quite. “I don’t want to have to be hard about this, Hitch. But you’re not welcome on this farm. It just… isn’t the best thing.”
“So I’ve heard.” He turned to go, then glanced back at Jael. “Well, what do you say about the job?”
She looked straight at him. “I say I will have thoughts about it.”
Fifteen
TAOS DIDN’T QUITE seem to understand how the game of fetch was supposed to work. He’d bring sticks back all right. But every time Walter threw a small stick, Taos would come trotting back with a big one. This latest one was almost as long as he was. He bit it on the skinny end and dragged the rest behind him.
Walter huffed and shook his head. Of course, a dog couldn’t be good at everything, just like a person couldn’t be. Taos seemed good enough at the rest of being a boy’s dog.
Walter leaned down to try to pull the stick away. Taos pulled right back, tail wagging.
Footsteps approached through the apple trees. “Taos!”
The dog dropped the stick and whirled around. He bounded up to his owner—the man called Hitch—and reared onto his hind legs, barking.
Hitch snapped his fingers. “Get down.” He crouched to fondle the dog’s ears, but he looked at Walter the whole time. “Ran away with my dog, did you?” His voice was serious. But his eyes twinkled just a bit. Maybe.
Without saying anything, it’d be kind of hard to make somebody understand the dog had run away with Walter more than the other way around. So Walter just pushed his hands into his overalls pockets and shrugged.
“Weeelll.” Hitch drew out the word. “Taos must like you. He always did have good taste in people. Picked me out right away.” He winked.
Walter grinned. If he was a dog, he’d have picked Hitch too.
People had been talking all over town today. Most of it was about the big storm, but Mama Nan and Aunt Aurelia had been whispering with Mr. Matthew and Mr. J.W. about what Jael and Hitch had done. Flown right into the storm, dodging lightning and everything. Like real heroes.
And Walter was going to get to go flying with them. Hitch had said Walter could go flying, more or less, and Jael had promised.